


Like Father, Like Son

by Azilver



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: 5+1 Things, BAMF!Herc, F/M, M/M, POV Outsider, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azilver/pseuds/Azilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Herc was like Chuck and 1 time Chuck was more like Herc</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father, Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> for [this](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2775117#t2775117%20/) prompt on the Pacific Rim Kink Meme:  
> Chuck's hot-blooded and arrogant for a lot of the movie, and while that can be somewhat attributed to having grown up in the Jaeger program and piloting Striker successfully for so long, he also got it from Herc.
> 
> Herc and Chuck, for all their disagreements with each other, are actually very similar - how else could they pilot so well together? They are father and son, after all. Yes, Herc is 10000x more professional and polite than Chuck: he's older, more mature. But catch him on a bad day, or get on his bad side (idk maybe other pilots make lewd comments about Chuck, or the PPDC people try separating him and Chuck), or see him in the adrenaline-fueled moments right after a kaiju battle, and he's eerily like his son. Herc can be just as impulsive and arrogant as his boy, he's just better at reigning it in/disguising it.

There’s a reason Herc hates Chuck sparring with anyone other than him. Fuckers always try to cop a feel of his boy, like he won’t notice. Chuck’s damned good in the kwoon and it’s not like the boy can’t (and hasn’t) broken a few adventurous fingers and the occasional nose.

But Daniel Warren has somehow, out of all the idiots with their brains in their balls, made it to the top of his shitlist. He’d caught the guy multiple times. There had been eyes and hands where they shouldn’t be but Herc had self control and unless they went too far he usually wasn’t inclined to remind them of who exactly Chuck’s father was. Not that he didn’t take great amusement from making the bastards struggle not to wet themselves with a well placed glare or display of knife skills. If Stacker rolled his eyes any harder they’d get loose of his skull.

Danny had overstepped his boundaries twice that day already. First time had been that morning. Chuck had been rather enthusiastic waking him up and Herc had decided they deserved a treat with some breakfast in their quarters. He’d come back from the mess with their tray to find Danny at their door with his gaze quite clearly locked on a scowling Chuck, fresh out of the shower. He’d had to stomp down on the need to rip off the hand trailing down his son’s arm, from the shoulder. Hard.

“Hey, dad.” His boy had greeted him with a relaxed smile, ignoring the interloper. “Move it, Warren. I can wait to kick your ass ‘til later.”

If Herc had made sure to slam the door in the guys face, so what? He had better things to do, like set the tray aside and hoist his boy up against the wall. They had the morning off and it wasn’t a break until Chuck was hoarse from screaming. Sound proofed walls were made for fun.

Chuck had been demonstrating in the kwoon that afternoon. It was a newer group of rookie rangers who’d been shipped in from the States. Many had the look he’d seen on those who thought they were better than this. Herc had overheard one of them complaining yesterday that he didn’t get how “a washed-up old man and his pretty boy son” could possibly show them how to fight.

His son had just finished demonstrating a series of movements and Danny had volunteered to demonstrate their effectiveness with him. He’d been on the floor in seconds but Herc saw his sons eyes widen briefly and his jaw clench. The Yanks arm had twitched from where it was hidden from view by Chuck’s body and Herc knew immediately what he’d done. He was proud of his boy’s control as the younger Hansen just pushed himself off the other man a bit roughly.

Admittedly, it took some doing to get Herc to lose any semblance of control. But when he did, it was a thing of raw beauty.

*****

Team Striker Eureka is a close-knit group and they’ve seen the Hansen’s at their best and worst. They also know how close the two men are, despite the constant bickering and bitching, and that only a fool messes with one and doesn’t expect the other. So, when Lori runs in and shouts, “Herc’s steppin’ in.” they know shit’s about to hit the fan.

If the other teams and rangers are surprised when the whole Striker team converges on the kwoon, they are quickly distracted by Hercules Hansen stripping down to his sweatpants and stepping onto the mat. It is a rare occurrence to see the man spar with someone other than his son.

Before anyone can step forward, though, he calls out for “Warren, get up here.”

The younger ranger is a cocky one with the way he shrugs at his mates and struts onto the floor. He gets into a fighting stance but, with a sharp strike, is on the floor in a second.

A cheer goes up from Striker’s team.

Warren pushes up and strikes out at Herc who blocks the blow, twisting it up and away before catching the other in the chest and hooking his leg, sending him crashing to the mat again. Striker’s team enjoy the display that they rarely get to see as the fight moves on, with the younger ranger getting less and less coordinated. The Aussie’s blows become harder and more direct, almost taunting.

“Seriously,” Roth, Striker’s head engineer, mutters to Lori, “What the hell did the man do? Herc’s pissed.”

The programmer shrugs, then winces as a blow lands across the kids left flank. That one was vicious, Warren will be lucky if it’s just a cracked rib. This isn’t Herc’s normal lesson, this is Herc letting loose like she’s only seen one other person do.

The kid isn’t giving up though and drops his staff. Someone really should have told him that the Australian hated using the staffs. 

*****

Josh has heard about the Hansens since he joined the rangers. He has the greatest respect for the team and envies their skills. Like many in his class he really admires Hercules. The man is everything a good ranger should aspire to: strong, skilled, quick, fit and dedicated. The way he can walk through a crowd, the masses parting for the cut of his shoulders in his uniform, is a thing of beauty.

As for the son, well, Josh likes him well enough. He just doesn’t like the guy’s arrogance. Sure, he’s a great pilot and has a number of kaiju kills under his belt but sometimes he talks down to them, like they’re children.

Today was looking no different than usual until Hercules Hansen had called his son’s class to a halt and grabbed Danny. The younger ranger was barely ready when Hercules struck. The fight was hard and fast, looking less like a practice and more like a beating.

Josh was surprised when Danny dropped his staff but knew his friend was better with his fists anyway. It didn’t help him at all. In fact, Hercules just dropped his own staff, flexed his hands and shrugged. The one side of his mouth going up sent a shiver through Josh. There was something like amused expectation in that smirk and it wasn’t nice.

“Well, that was a stupid move.” He heard one of Striker’s team mutter to another. “Did no one tell these rookies the number one rule of the kwoon?”

His friend just laughed. “What? Like, Herc’s weakest at kwoon staffs so never fight him hand to hand?”And, really, that was self-evident by the slick crunch as Danny attempted a punch and Hercules effortlessly deflected it, slamming his elbow into the other man’s face. He choked back as blood ruptured from his broken nose, reaching out to grab at Hercules.

“Don’t they remember? Aussie brawlers.”

“Pfft! Idiots.”

Danny was on the mat again before he could even attempt anything and Hercules looked down on him, disgust written clear across his face.

“Get up.” He barked sharply in a tone Josh had never heard from the man himself, though it was eerily familiar. “You wanna be a fuckin’ ranger, you damned well prove to me you’re worth it. Right now all I see is a little bitch who needs to learn a lesson.”

*****

It’s a no-holds-barred beatdown. Plain and simple.

Sasha just shakes her head and leans into Alexsis. The boy was clearly out of his league and stupid enough not to realise it until it was too late. She’d gone up against Hercules Hansen only a few times herself but never in a serious fight. Yet, even then, she’d recognised the skill and fire he held back, leashed, in a way his son had yet to learn.

“Wonder what the kid did.” Her husband rumbles in Russian. A good question.

Really, anyone who thought that Chuck was the more volatile of the two was damned blind. She just hoped she was there when the man finally let lose. It would be… krasivaya.

*****

Newt loved watching a good fight and being able to hang out round the kwoon was a definite perk to working in the shatterdome, if you asked him. Hearing that Hercules was participating in a class was music to his ears and the scientist had made a hasty trip over.

And it had been glorious!

Herc had beaten the snot out of some ranger wannabe. There had been staffs and fists and kicks and taunts! Who knew the big guy had a mouth like that on him?

It had been fine until a friend of the ranger Herc had destroyed made a comment along the lines of, “Suck it, loser.” And the guy, so obviously butt hurt, had reacted in the stereotypical way Newt had seen many a school bully react when shown up: a shout of “Shut up!” and a punch to the face.

The friend had crashed into some of Striker’s engineers and lashed out. The result of which was the current brawl.

Sweet!

The Hansen’s were in the middle, back to back and grinning viciously as they dropped anyone not on their team who, for some reason, thought it would be a good idea to take them on. Totally crazy! They were so in sync anyone could see they were compatible. Really, what had the evals been on about? You didn’t mess with compatibility like that! No way!

It became clear early in that the fight was a case of Striker’s side versus the imports. The guys hadn’t kept the fight to just those clearly into it either, like the engineers and other rangers. No. They had started in on the scientists and programmers too.

Even Newt had been drawn in by some thug who seemed to think he’d be an easy shot. He may have been small but years as the geeky kid in school had taught him how to defend himself. Newt ducked the intended blow and caught the guy with a right hook to the jaw.

“And the geek is the winner!” That so deserved a victory dance.

*****

The Marshall was not impressed. He’d rather be doing paperwork but, no, he had to discipline one of his most experienced rangers AND the majority of engineering AND the rest of the rangers- most of whom were experiencing their first trip to the infirmary as patients.

Fucking Hansens. Fucking Russians. Fucking engineers and programmers, staff and scientists who’d picked up fighting after years in bar fights with said fucking Hansens, fucking Russians and fucking engineers.

That said, he’d known Herc for years and knew that if he kicked Warren’s ass the kid deserved it. The latest crop of would-be rangers were nothing but punks. Needed a good thrashing anyway, if you asked him. But he was the Marshall….

“You want to tell me what the hell you were thinking, Hansen?” Stacker growled. “You’re supposed to oversee the rookies training, not beat the living hell out of them and start a brawl!”

Herc just smirked back with a look in his eyes that Stacker was more used to seeing on a younger Hansen’s face. “Shit, Marshall, it was fun.”

When people wandered how he put up with a cocky kid like Chuck Hansen he liked to point out he’d been handling the kids father for years. He’d take Chuck any day.

*****

Chuck was happy. He’d had a great day and the evening was looking up too.

He’d woken up warm and comfortable, wrapped up in strong arms. He’d never admit it but the comfort and security of being held close was one of his favourite feelings. They had the morning off so he knew they could take their time getting up. With that thought in mind he’d reached his hand back to start their morning off slow.

Dad had grabbed a quick shower while he relaxed a bit longer. He’d taken a shower when Herc had gone to grab them some breakfast. Slow mornings were the best and Chuck made quick work of his shower with every intention of being ready and waiting for… breakfast.

There was a knock moments after he’d turned the water off and, knowing dad wouldn’t have needed to, had wrapped a towel round his waist before answering the door. It was that drongo, Warren. Chuck wasn’t an idiot, he knew exactly what the fucker was after and it wasn’t happening.

He’d been about to tear the guy a new one when he’d spotted Herc with breakfast. Remembering his plans for the rest of the morning, he’d let a smile slip and told the guy to get stuffed.

The way dad had looked at Warren was golden. It wasn’t often Chuck got to see him more than mildly irritated these days but he was definitely on the road to pissed if the way he grabbed Chuck and pushed him up against the wall was any proof. Gods, did he love it when dad got possessive!

By the time he finally got breakfast it was cold but he was too blissed out to care.

They’d managed a second shower before heading off to the kwoon. Chuck was in charge of training the American group that had arrived a few days earlier. Even the fact that Warren was in the group hadn’t darkened his day. Until Chuck had demonstrated a takedown on him, only to have a hand slip past his stomach and grip his dick through his pants.

He’d been pissed but knew it would do no good to say anything or retaliate. Then dad had stepped in.

Fuuuck, but Chuck was thankful that their sweats were roomy because Herc’s display had been hot. Seriously. After that morning he shouldn’t have been able to get hard so quickly! Okay, he had a bit of a thing for his dad being dominant, so what? It wasn’t like he was the only one who enjoyed the sight of Herc, stripped to the waist, eyes flashing and wielding a weapon like an extension of his own body. He just got to appreciate it a bit more closely than others.

The team had popped in too and had fun watching Herc take the guy down, again and again. As for when the idiot decided to use his fists instead of the staffs, Chuck had just rolled his eyes. He may as well have handed Herc a tyre iron. Hand-to-hand was his dad’s best and favourite form of fighting.

It was only when one of the Yanks had gotten into it with some of his team that Chuck had stepped into the fight. It had been a while since Herc and he fought, not just sparred, not just in Striker and drifting, but together in the flesh. It was almost as good as the sex.

It had felt amazing, the way they moved and reacted to each other. He’d twisted just enough and felt the brush of Herc’s arm as it drew back for a strike. Herc ducked as Chuck went to throw someone overhead. They knew how and where the other would move and responded accordingly.

And it was more than that. All Chuck had had to say was, “Dad.” for Herc to steady his stance and bring his arms up. Chuck had simply leant back, hooked his arms around his dad’s and kicked out with both legs.

That was what being compatible was about. You had to be in sync inside and outside the drift, like it was more than second nature. It didn’t matter what the shrinks or evals said, they were the bloody best and nobody was going to separate them. He’d dare them to try.

So what if the Marshall was pissed off at them? It had been fun. Wasn’t like he could really do anything, they hadn’t started the brawl. And they’d shown those yobs where to get off!

Right then the old man was getting bitched out by Pentecost and Chuck could either stand around like gormless twat or he could get on with his plans for the evening. “Screw this.”

In the mess he passed the table where a group of the rookie foreign rangers sat, looking like they’d gone a few rounds with Cherno Alpha. Normally, Chuck would feel the urge to gloat but not tonight. He had plans.

Except it seemed the group hadn’t had enough as a few called out. “Hey Hansen! Daddy not around to protect your pretty little ass?”

He was not going to let these pissants ruin his day, not now. He had every intention of only sleeping when both Herc and he had collapsed from exhaustion, dirty, sweaty and covered in each other. And that wasn’t happening if he decided to show them exactly how much the saying ‘like father, like son’ applied to Herc and him. If they wanted to start something they would just have to pick someone else to rip them to shreds. “Quiet, Nolan. It’s finished.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from Pacific Rim. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or world, I am just borrowing them and this story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.


End file.
